


(4. Freeze) / How to stop time: kiss.

by Mothfluff



Series: GO-ctober Prompts 2019 [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Ineffable husbands - Fandom
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, No Dialogue, October Prompt Challenge, One Word Prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 15:09:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20894096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothfluff/pseuds/Mothfluff
Summary: My attempts at an October Challenge, basically using the original Inktober prompts for drabbles.(Each prompt will be posted as part of a series, not chapters, so I can add tags/characters/ratings/trigger warnings for each instead of the whole she-bang)Prompt 4 - FreezeIn the bookshop, though, time had frozen still.It hadn’t been Crowley’s doing this time, but he very much appreciated the fact that the universe had apparently decided this moment needed to be stopped in time for him for a minute, if only to make sure he could absolutely burn it into his memory. Bring it up later, whenever he needed to, reminisce on a scene that was never really meant to happen, that he never dared to dream about, but was now actuallyhappening, and could become a thing he could remember. Something from reality, not from his dreams, as it usually had been. This time it was real. He would probably need to repeat that statement a few more times in his head to truly believe it.Not that he could quite remember how they’d gotten here.





	(4. Freeze) / How to stop time: kiss.

Time had frozen still.

Well, that wasn’t exactly right. Crowley knew what it was like for time to truly stand still – he’d only done it once, but it had been quite a monumental thing to do, and it wasn’t something you’d forget any time soon. Even with the imminent threat of complete destruction, causing the entire world to stop moving for a few minutes was a feat he wasn’t really sure he was supposed to be able to do.

This here was a little bit different.

He knew, if he thought about it (which he did not, because there were far more important things to think about at the moment), that from an outside point, time very much moved on. People outside the bookshop were still hurrying down the streets to get home and out of the dark, a few miles out of London a rainstorm was beginning to make its way to the city, and even further away a whole lot of people were doing a whole lot of things everywhere in the world. Time was racing for the humans.

In the bookshop, though, time had frozen still.

It hadn’t been Crowley’s doing this time, but he very much appreciated the fact that the universe had apparently decided this moment needed to be stopped in time for him for a minute, if only to make sure he could absolutely burn it into his memory. Bring it up later, whenever he needed to, reminisce on a scene that was never really meant to happen, that he never dared to dream about, but was now _actually __happening, _and could become a thing he could remember. Something from reality, not from his dreams, as it usually had been. This time it was real. He would probably need to repeat that statement a few more times in his head to truly believe it.

Not that he could quite remember how they’d gotten here.

It had been a normal evening, as normal as most of their evenings had been now. They’d had dinner, and then Crowley had not even considered the option of driving back to his flat instead of spreading out on the backroom couch while Aziraphale settled down with a book in the armchair. Aziraphale had not complained. (Well, not about the company. He’d complained about a many great things, but Crowley had learned to tune it out until an actual grievance came to light and he had to listen to console his angel.) They’d chatted, sat in silence for a while, Crowley had gone up to refill Aziraphale’s slowly emptied cup of tea twice, bringing biscuits from the kitchenette with him on the second turn, and Aziraphale had blushed and smiled and thanked him and it had all felt very _nice_ in that way that Crowley would never admit he liked. He’d made a joke, or at least said something he figured was snarky enough to break the moment, but Aziraphale hadn’t tutted or scolded him like he usually did. Instead, Aziraphale had gotten up and sat down beside him on the couch.

That was very much the last thing Crowley remembered properly before _this_.

He wasn’t quite sure what the angel had mumbled to his hands, nervously folded in his lap as usual. Crowley vaguely remembered the blush that had not yet disappeared when he looked back up and smiled at him, thinking how much it suited him, before noticing that even while smiling, there was a hint of tears in Aziraphale’s eyes. He was probably supposed to remember words that were being said to him, they were probably something important that he shouldn’t tune out, but all he could focus on were hands suddenly reaching for his, and then the smell that he was so very familiar with getting closer, and then Aziraphale’s breath on his cheek and soft lips on his and-

And then time had frozen still.

It was a very nice moment to stop on. Truthfully, it was a moment he’d been dreaming and daydreaming about for, oh, maybe five or so millenia now. A moment he’d never, in another five millenia, would’ve believed to actually _happen_. But here he was, being kissed by an angel, literally, and time had stopped to lose all meaning, and damned if he wasn’t going to make sure he remembered every single sensation of this moment. He was very focussed on remembering. So much so, he had yet to realise that when one was being kissed, one should also kiss back. You know, for proper effect. And to not worry the first kisser about the other kisser’s interest in the situation.

Unfortunately, by the time he realised, time had also become unfrozen again.

Crowley faced the bitter truth that when time stopped still for someone, it made up for it by speed after it started again. Things were rushing past him he couldn’t keep up with. Aziraphale had already pulled away before he could kiss him back. He did not, Crowley noticed with a tinge of hope, pull his hands away immediately, though. He was talking again and looking as flustered as before, but different, worse, and Crowley realised he was _apologising_. For kissing him. For the misunderstanding. What misunderstanding? Before Crowley could understand, he noticed the hands pulling away, and Aziraphale almost getting up, and time was still racing, he had to react somehow, say something, do something- So he grabbed the angel by his comfy cardigan, pulled him back down and finally, after what seemed like forever, kissed him back.

And maybe time didn’t freeze again.

But it may have slowed down just a tiny bit inside the stuffy old bookshop, slow enough that the two entities who’d passed far too much time tiptoeing around each other could spend it truly enjoying their first real kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> I might just have the actual conversation happening outside of Crowley’s conscious in my head. Might need to use it for something later.


End file.
